This Boat

In the dying light a boy nurtures wild cats, feeding them, watching them, pouring water out for them.

You and I just watch him. As usual your words anchor me, which feels a little unfair for you, seeing that I am the old one. I love your strong voice shared by all the women from your tribe, and just as when you were a little girl I want to call them to assembly, muster them for us, say, see these kids? The ones you have loved all these years? Be there for them, please,

No matter what.

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The Winter Swimmers

They are out there somewhere still, three, sometimes four, figures and a dog who has long gone, gone past the snake on the path, gone past all the wounds of time, leaving snapshots of a good dog all the while the children howl full wind

They knew no shelter from the start

Miles of lonely nothing

No stones, bread crumbs, or birds to

Guide them back

Home.

One Million Daisies

She has been a cloud, a curved white wave, a story from a picture, the daughter who won’t answer back, reminder of all I have lost, world is full of daisies, I could find one now, on hands and feet in the night. They are common things, hands and feet in the dark, looking for lost flowers, people we always knew we needed. One million daisies, little flower faces, pushed to rough angles by this lion’s wind, breathing us into impossible life.

Our Savage Selves

I don’t own a gun but I am grateful the barefoot neighbor in Sutherland Springs did.

Every time we face the devastation of a mass shooting in this country I want to say things like:

We cannot monetize an entertainment culture of violence and not expect it to sway the unhinged.

If we want “better” gun laws we have to enforce the ones we already have.

Andhow many of us know there will be a fatal gap between when 911 is dialed and when help arises?

Without civil accountability in public safety

There is no safety at all.